Of Gauze and Guns
by Paperless Cat
Summary: USUK, Human AU. Alfred F. Jones is a police officer. Arthur is a paramedic. They meet on the first day of their respective forces. Multi-chapter story. Rated T for mild gore and profanity.
1. Chapter 1

****Hi! mikutalianinja here!****

 ** **Summary:** USUK, Human AU. Alfred F. Jones is a police officer. Arthur is a paramedic. They meet on the first day of their respective forces. **

**Multi-chapter story.  
**

 **Rated T for mild gore and profanity.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

 **BETA NEEDED. PM me for more details.**

* * *

Dark smoke stained the clear morning sky.

Arthur Kirkland grimaced at the wreck next to him. Hot, red-orange flames licked the frames of both the cars while melted plastics and an assortment of liquefied things ooze out. A multitude of firefighters surrounded the wreck, trying to tame the flames.

The two people responsible for this were already in one of the ambulances to the hospital, being treated for third-degree burns and chemical exposure, as well as various other maladies.

He, being the "newbie", had to assess the bloody bodies, determine what afflictions had been caused (even though some of them were so _damn obvious_ ) and check for vital signs.

He had never been more thankful of his stethoscope.

Arthur took off his now bloody gloves, placed them in a bio-hazard bag and waited for his next orders.

Then the wind shifted, blowing the smoke towards him.

He gagged and doubled over from the horrid smell of burning chemicals. Out of the corner of his tear-filled eye, he saw a blue blob head his way.

"You alright there?" it questioned.

Arthur blinked.

The blob formed into a man, who looked younger than him by a few years. He wore the standard officer uniform, notepad in his hand. He had dirty blond hair with a cowlick, lively bright blue eyes and wire-rimmed glasses. Worry was evident in his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Arthur stood up before coming back down again after getting another blast of the smell.

"Blasted wind..."He muttered under his breath.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing..."

Another paramedic ran up to the duo. "JONES! KIRKLAND! Quit idling and get your asses moving!"

"Yes sir!"

"Jones, blood tests show that one of them was drunk. Kirkland, here are the files of both of them as well as what might've happened."

Arthur blinked as the files were shoved in his face. Alfred, on the other hand, was scribbling down words on his notepad.

"JONES! Come here, there's a bottle!" One of the firefighters fished out a half-melted glass bottle.

"On it!"

Arthur looked through the files. "Hm... Claire Rosewell. Age 32, healthy, clear record."

He flipped to the next one. "Bryant Crowford. Age 21, healthy, also clear record."

He flipped to the report. "Seems like Crowford rammed into Rosewell at 73 miles per hour. Judging by what's left of the cars, he must have hit the gas tank, setting both on fire..."

He shook his head. "Poor sap, that's definitely going on his record."

Arthur looked over to the officer who was currently talking animatedly to the firefighter...

* * *

Alfred F. Jones was not having a good day.

First, he ran out of coffee.

Second, he joined up with a senior officer, expecting to be all kick-ass and the hero like in the movies. But _nooo_ , he was delegated on being the secretary. (Then again, it could be some kind of ritual for new officers.)

Third, when he saw the state in which the two people in, he decidedly felt sick to his stomach. The coppery smell and all that blood...

He shuddered at the memory.

He resisted the urge to yawn (which was quite a feat, given that it was around 5-ish in the morning and he stayed up 'til 3 playing Halo 5) and half-heartedly scribbled down notes on what happened.

Alfred slapped on his signature smile when talking to people. Didn't need other people to know that he wasn't at his best.

"JONES! Come here, there's a bottle!"

"On it!" he replied, in the most energy he could muster.

He walked towards the man with some urgency, arriving right in front of the half-melted glass bottle.

Hm. Beer bottle.

A small scrap of metal was placed right next to it. It took awhile for Alfred to realize it was the bottle cap. Although most of the paint was burned, he could still make out the faint letters of "Heiken". How it survived the blazing inferno was was anyone's guess.

He scribbled this all down.

"Which car did it come from?"

"This one." another scrap of metal, this time in a twisted rectangular shape, landed right next to the other scraps. Barely making out the license plate, he added it to his notes.

"Thanks!"

The firefighter shrugged.

"It's better to know. Hope this gets cleared up soon."

"Yeah."

He walked away, but the same person (paramedic, he reminded himself) as before caught his eye.

Remembering all those small tips at the office, he approached him once more. The (somewhat) short man with big bushy eyebrows (he swore he saw them move on their own) and bright blond hair was looking through files.

Alfred tapped his shoulder, eliciting a small twitch.

* * *

Arthur was in the middle of reading the report when he felt something tap his shoulder.

He looked up. The same police officer from before was back.

"Is there anything on how the crash happened?"

"Yes."

"Can I see it?"

"Sure." He handed over the papers.

Arthur gazed off into the distance. The sky was a light blue, sun just above the horizon.

"...your name?"

Arthur snapped back to reality.

"What?"

"What's your name?"

"Oh. Arthur. Arthur Kirkland. What about you?"

"Alfred F. Jones, the HEROOOOOOO-"

"Agh, my ears-"

"Oops. Well, I think we might see each other around more often!"

"I highly doubt it."

* * *

 **I'm going to actually try and write a multi-chapter fanfic this time.**

 **I hope this is accurate. If not, please correct me.**

 **Please Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Heyo~ mikutalianinja here!**

 **Sorry for this chapter being late. Real life issues and writer's block happened.  
**

 **This is mostly a filler chapter.**

 **BETA NEEDED! PM me for details.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. Or any other brands mentioned in this fanfic  
**

* * *

They did meet again.

It had been a few days after that... incident.

Arthur was put on shift during those few days.

He had dealt with twelve panicked partners, seven illness-related cases, three heart-attacks and two false alarms.

Who knew that a 5-year old would call the emergency center because his mother was forcing him to take a _bath_? (Granted, the kid did say that someone was going to kill him.)

He was just shopping for groceries when he heard (probably the last thing he'll ever hear, due to how loud it was) "ARTHURRRRR!"

Arthur nearly dropped what he was holding when he was assaulted by a human missile from the behind.

Alfred thumped his back enthusiastically, knocking the wind out of Arthur.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, are you alright- Wait lemme hold those for you and you go sit over there-"

* * *

When Arthur regained his breath, he went straight to lecturing Alfred.

"First, it's 'let me' not 'lemme' or whatever you said-second, don't ever do that again, I swear my blood pressure has never been higher and third my ears-"

"Umm... Arthur?" Alfred said meekly, raising his head from the position of a scolded child.

Arthur stopped his tirade. "Yes?"

"Do you mind if I bought you a drink? Y'know, being sorry for knocking the wind out of you?"

Arthur sighed. "Alright."

Alfred brightened almost instantly. "Let's go, Artie!"

Arthur scowled at the nickname. "Don't call me that!"

* * *

They stopped at the nearest cafe.

Alfred ordered coffee while Arthur opted for Earl Grey.

"I don't understand why you Americans like coffee."

"Well...uh well, I don't get why British people like tea!"

"That was a poor insult, even from you."

"Hey!"

Arthur laughed.

"So... How are you today?" Alfred asked hesitantly.

"Good. Finally got out of the blasted shift. And you?"

"Oh, had a few mishaps from sleeping, but otherwise great!"

"Must you always shout?"

"I can't help it! It's part of my charm~"

"Oh no, you shouldn't have said that-"

"Oh, mon ami, it's so rare to see you here~"

"Oh buggering fu-Francis, Why are you here?!"

"Did you finally want to do it again? I- _er_ -we could also add in your newest friend-"

"FOR THE LAST TIME I WAS DRUNK!"

* * *

They talked a bit more before going their separate ways.

Arthur headed home, stored the fresh food in the fridge and sat in his worn leather chair, book in hand.

He was almost done reading the book when a bang resounded the house.

"ARTIE! OPEN UP!"

He instantly knew who it was.

"Bloody hell Alfred! Don't do that! How do you know I live here?" Arthur opened the thick mahogany door.

"Uhmm...heheh...funny story actually. I uh... sort of followed you-"

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose.

"-and, uh... I have no more food and my boss threatened to cut my pay if I went to McD-"

A low sigh escaped Arthur's lips.

"Well then, come in. I was just about to cook something."

* * *

"Um... Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sure this is edible?"

"It is, but-."

 _Gag. Cough. Hackhack_ _hackc_ _ough_ _hack_ _hack_ _hack_ _hack-_

"-I can't guarantee the taste."

 _Thump._

"Quit being melodramatic."

 _Twitch._

* * *

After successfully swallowing the somewhat charred _thing_ , Alfred sat uncomfortably across from the Arthur.

Awkward silence ensued.

"...So," Alfred started, "can I leave you my phone number?"

"What for?"

"We'll probably see each other more often and I- uh... I think it might be useful 'n stuff-"

"Oh alright, here's a pen and paper."

As Alfred wrote, Arthur noticed a slight glimmer outside under a streetlight across the street.

A man held a thing that seemed to be made of a type of metal and in an L-shape, almost like-

Arthur's blood ran cold.

He tackled Alfred to the floor right when the man pulled the trigger.

 _BANG._

* * *

 **Sorry for the short chapter.**

 **I'll update faster next time.**

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 ** _NordicsAwesome_ : 1st review. Thank you so much! I'll try my best to write longer chapters!**

 **Please Review.**


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